


Killing Me

by Elinad



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (But even though Will's on top it's still Hannibal who is really), Barebacking, Bottom Hannibal, Creepy Hannibal, Eye Contact, Eye Sex, Hannigram - Freeform, Hate Sex, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Strangulation, Top Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:36:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elinad/pseuds/Elinad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A ficlet where Will tells Hannibal exactly what he'd like to do to him, porn happens. Based on the "with my hands" scene from the episode "Su-zakana" and inspired by the incredible "Talk Dirty to Hannibal" youtube video, which I can't recommend you watch enough: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sSeLkJN2BjY</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killing Me

“You fantasize about killing me,” states Hannibal simply, elegantly sat with one leg crossed neatly over the other.

Will pauses for a moment before replying “Yes”, his large blue eyes not leaving Hannibal’s maroon ones.

“Tell me, how would you do it?” purrs Hannibal curiously.

The younger man waits a little longer before answering, “With my hands.” He states, his voice quiet but steady.

The psychiatrist’s head jerks back a bit in surprise. He breaks eye contact for a moment as he feels his cock leap to life, straining against the thick fabric of his suit trousers. He looks back to see his patient breathing heavily but slowly after this confession, chest heaving, knuckles whitening as he grips each arm of the leather chair and the pink cupid’s bow of his lips twitching. His eyes are shining, brimming with emotion. 

Cocking his head to better observe, Hannibal opens his own full mouth slightly in wonder and want as he sees the younger man’s length rise to attention. An impressive sight, as it manages to obviously tent his loosely cut trousers. 

Will now writhes gently in his seat as his breaths become even deeper. With an almost startled look, like the proverbial deer before the flash of the headlights, his head bobs slightly as he contemplates the man opposite him. 

Hannibal’s gaze intensifies. His eyes narrow slightly as he ponders Will. Where is he now? Is he picturing it, plunged deep in to that marvellous imagination of his, he kneels over Hannibal, pinning each of his arms with a leg. His pale hands slim and dexterous around Hannibal’s neck, squeezing the life out of him. He pants and shakes with the effort, his finely sculpted face flushed and feverous. 

The older man feels his pulse quicken at the thought, but still he maintains his mask, his composure. His face remains impassive. 

But Will knows, of course Will knows, that brilliant boy. His empathy is too powerful, he understands Hannibal too well. He extends his moist, red tongue a little to caress his lower lip. It’s a purposeful act of provocation. He frowns at Hannibal slightly, fucking him with those gorgeous eyes the colour of cloudy skies. 

Hannibal allows the tiniest of smirks to grace his features and permits it to reach his eyes, letting the mask slip. He uncrosses his legs, at last unveiling to the younger man his own erection. Will finally breaks eye contact to look down at the psychiatrist’s crotch. He lets out an almost feral hiss, his eyes hooded and cloudy with pleasure, with pride even. 

Will leaps forward like an uncoiled viper, pouncing on the good doctor. He grabs him by his broad shoulders and throws him to the ground. Hannibal offers no resistance, allowing the younger man to manipulate him like a doll. He lies flat on his back, staring up at the criminal profiler expectantly.

“You want this,” breathes Will silkily. 

“Yes.” answers Hannibal. 

Hannibal watches the internal conflict that goes on inside Will’s mind. Part of Will doesn’t wish to continue because this is what Hannibal wants, he doesn’t want to play in to the older man’s hands, to be influenced and controlled like always. But another part of Will wishes very much to continue…

It’s this latter part that wins as Will’s hands shoot forward and enclose themselves around Hannibal’s neck. His fingers squeeze hard, cutting off the doctor’s airflow, he shakes and pants with the effort, his erection harder than ever.

Grinning with bliss at the gorgeous man on top of him coming undone, Hannibal reaches up his hands to rove over Will unhindered. He grabs the other man’s slender waist hard, strokes his sides, his firm pectoral muscles that are pronounced from the strain of strangling him. He tries to breathe in deep the heady scent of Will at this moment, drenched in nervous sweat, tinged with deep arousal and adrenaline. He takes one last look at the wide blue eyes with blown out pupils, rendering them almost black, before his vision starts to fade due to the lack of oxygen. His hands stop their fondling and fall to his sides, limp. 

It’s at this moment that the empath decides to loosen his grip. Hannibal relishes the rush of air that’s allowed to enter his lungs, carrying Will’s musk, and revels in the hands that still remain uncomfortably tight around his throat. 

“So how did that feel Will?” Hannibal probes, his voice even deeper and huskier than ever.

“Shut up. Shut up.” whispers Will venomously. He starts rocking against Hannibal in frustration, his hands never leaving their position about the psychiatrist's throat. He bounces up and down, gently throttling the older man whilst grinding their still-clothed erections together. 

“Why can’t I kill you?” he moans, tears ready to drip from those turquoise orbs. Hannibal loves how his patient’s eyes can change so dramatically, depending on the light, his mood…he breathes in hungrily as this new aroma is added to mix, the salt of Will’s frustration. He resists the urge to lap up the hot, saline drops that fall on his face, to push the younger man over and plunge himself in to him…but now is not the time, he must tread carefully with Will at this moment.

“Because contrary to what you wish to believe, I’m your friend Will. I want to help you.” 

Will lets out a long groan at this, which sounds equal amounts anger and pleasure. He begins to rut against the older man harder. He feels like his cock might implode with all the heat, the pressure and the friction. His much over-cooked brain feels the same at present…his dry humping of the doctor becomes furious. 

“Tell me to do it. Tell me.” Hannibal breathes, each syllable dripping with finality and seduction. 

“Un…unbutton your trousers.” gulps the empath, trying to keep his voice from wobbling. He maintains his death-grip on Hannibal’s oesophagus. 

With deft and well-trained fingers Hannibal relieves himself of his lower garments quickly and without fuss. His erection is at last free of its fabric prison. Will tries not to look panicked as he sees it, the other man is very well endowed indeed. Hannibal savours his gaze which is crowded with too many heated emotions; rage, lust, fear…

“What do you want me to do now Will? I am completely at your disposal.”

“Un…undo my slacks.” Will swallows audibly.

Hannibal moves his graceful hands once more and enacts the command with ease. Will sighs a little in pleasure and comfort as his own hard length is liberated. He savours the feel of the cool air against his heated loins. 

“Now?” murmurs the doctor.

“We’re going to need some lubricant.” replies Will. His voice sounds firm this time. 

Pulling the doctor upwards by the throat he thrusts him towards his waiting cock. Hannibal does not need to be told twice. Leaning forward greedily he takes the younger man in to his clever mouth. Will gasps in surprise and desire, he tightens his hold on the psychiatrist’s gullet. He feels the warm silken cavern of the older man’s mouth, the lascivious lickings of his long, cunning tongue and his throat, which constricts even more tightly around him as he increases the pressure from his fingers around Hannibal’s neck.

Will enjoys this vision. His hands controlling his psychiatrist’s life force, the other man gluttonously pleasuring his cock…he leans backwards arching his back as he begins to fuck the doctor’s mouth, making sure to keep his neck held tightly. 

After a few minutes of this Will pulls Hannibal away and forces him to lie back down. 

“Prepare yourself.” He commands, voice strong but breathy with lust. 

Hannibal only looks slightly amused and unflappable as ever as he takes two of his long, strong fingers and inserts them in his mouth, sucking hard. Will moans a little at this, enjoying how the older man’s ridiculously high cheekbones become even more pronounced. 

When he deems them sufficiently lubricated he moves them towards his entrance, then inserts one, two fingers, moving them in and out. 

Beginning to sweat in arousal and anticipation, Will watches the doctor ready his entrance. Finally Hannibal gives him a little nod.

The younger man aligns himself as Hannibal presents him his rear. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, (how long’s it been since he’s done this? Too long he thinks.), Will slowly pushes in, marvelling at the tight ring of muscle that greets him. It’s an effort not to come there and then. 

He looks down at Hannibal’s face. Why does the other man look so calm, so composed? How is this even possible? Why can’t he feel all this fire that Will feels? 

A great rage boils in Will at that moment and he begins to move back and forth, building speed. He starts to shake Hannibal’s neck once more, leaning his weight down and pushing his head in to the plush carpet, mussing up those always perfect locks. 

Hannibal slides his fingers upward and takes a firm hold of Will’s sharp and narrow hipbones, pulling the young man in to him, encouraging him with his thrusts. 

“That’s it Will” he reassures. Will’s anger gets turned up to eleven by this. His thrusts begin to become animal. Grunting, panting, sweating, cursing he pounds savagely in to the older man beneath him. 

“Yes Will, yes” sighs Hannibal, the last “s” is drawn out in a serpentine hiss. Will tightens his grip even more. At least the doctor’s calm yet thrilled face has the grace to redden, as do his eyes. Which transform from deep burgundy in to a shade that could only be described as the rich claret of blood. He devours the younger man with those otherworldly eyes. They flash with pure primal delight. His sensual mouth opens a little to reveal two rows of even white teeth.

By this point Will is throwing himself in to the other man with all his strength, sweat pouring off him in buckets. He won’t be able to last much longer.

“Oh Will, you’re such a good boy.” He hums as best he can due to the privation of air.

“I. Hate. You.” snarls the empath through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust.

“Yes my boy, show me that hate, show me.” He gasps as Will constricts his grasp about his throat, fully cutting off his breathing, the younger man’s movements become wild, desperate. Hannibal claws in to Will’s hips even harder, clutching hard enough to leave great blue bruises in the shapes of his fingertips.

With a great bestial cry the profiler throws his head back, breaking eye contact at last and exposing his own long, beautiful neck, as he deposits his seed in to Hannibal. Hannibal watches this in ecstasy. The scene is framed in stars due to the lack of oxygen making its way to his brain. Hannibal thinks he’d very much like to sink his teeth in to that alabaster, swan-like neck…this vision of Will’s coming apart and the cornucopia of smells, sights and thoughts going through Hannibal’s mind – the semen, the sweat, he’d like to tear open the younger man’s jugular vein right now, drench himself in the warm crimson rush of arterial spray, lick it off the other man, claim him, rip him open, cut him, bite him, taste him, caress him, cherish him, love him…

At last Hannibal too reaches release, coating Will’s shirt in hot white. 

Panting feverishly Will lets go of Hannibal and rolls over, collapsing upon the ground beside him.

The two men lay there in silence as Will’s breathing eventually quietens and evens out. 

They continue to stare at one another for some time, neither saying a word.

Until, smiling warmly, Hannibal leans over and plants a single kiss on Will’s wet brow, relishing the briny lacquer of his sweat.

“Brilliant boy, you really did very well”, he beams, cradling his patient's handsome jaw with one large hand, “We’ll count this as part of your therapy.”


End file.
